


Win A Date With Zayn Malik

by larrymylove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Jealous Louis, M/M, Win a Date with Tad Hamilton AU, bradford bad boy, harry and louis are best friends who may also be in love, larry stylinson - Freeform, zayn plays matchmaker, ziam, ziam is pretty adorable too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4363601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrymylove/pseuds/larrymylove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Win A Date With Tad Hamilton AU...sort of. Basically, Louis wins a contest to have a romantic weekend with singer, Zayn Malik. Only, he gives his win to Harry instead. And Harry goes on this wonderful, glamerous adventure, only to be wishing he was sharing it with Louis the whole time. And Zayn decides that that just won’t do, and decides to play matchmaker. Also, Zayn may or may not have a crush on his assistant, Liam Payne.</p><p>Or, the one where Harry wins a date with The Bradford Badboy and is completely clueless, Louis is clueless too, and Zayn happens to have pastel lavender hair and a love for matchmaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Win A Date With Zayn Malik

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting around in my folder for quite some time and I decided to finally post it. I hope you like it!

“Harry! Quick! Turn on the radio to KISS 93.7! Do it!”

Harry peered up from the book in his hands. He was currently laying in bed, propped against his pillows, reading To Kill A Mockingbird when Louis Tomlinson tore through his bedroom. He’d raced right over to the radio, in spite of having just told Harry to do it, and was fiddling with the knob to change the station over.

“What?” Harry put down his book, “How did you even get in here?” His mom and Gemma were out shopping. Harry was home alone. And he was certain the front door was locked. Unless Louis had broken in through a window or summat. Not that Harry would exactly put that past him…

“C’mon, Haz. Don’t be a knob. I know your mum keeps a spare key under the geranium pot.”

“Of course you do,” Harry sighed, rolling his eyes slightly and wondering who in their right mind had given Louis _that_ little tidbit of information. Not that he minded Louis coming over. But Louis having, essentially, his own key was only going to further him being a constant presence - and nuisance - in Harry’s life. He figured it’d probably been Gemma. He swore Louis and Gemma plotted against him more times than not. And for the past few years, Gemma had taken to affectionately capturing Louis in a headlock, ruffling his feathery hair, and stating proudly that Louis was her favorite little brother. Which only garnered scoffs of disdain from Harry. Fuck, even the grandparents he saw once a year at the most had taken to pretty much adopting Louis into their family.

“Shh! Get your phone! Get your phone!”

“Care to explain to me what the hell is currently happening?” Harry asked, digging his cellphone from the folds of his blankets, “And why are you even more in tornado-mode than usual?”

“KISS 93.7 is holding a contest at 3:07. The seventh caller wins.”

“And what does this seventh caller win?” Harry raised a brow. He swore on his life this had better be good or Louis was getting a pillow chucked in his face. 

“A date with Zayn Malik!”

“ _Zayn Malik?_ ” Harry paled, he turned slightly to stare at the full-size poster of The Bradford Badboy on his bedroom wall right next to his bed. Louis had the same poster next to his own bed. The two best friends had shared mostly everything over the twenty years Harry had known Louis - blankets at naptime, chicken pox, pudding cups, t-shirts, toothbrushes (when Louis forgot his during sleepovers), deodorant (again, when Louis forgot his during sleepovers), and crushes on Zayn Malik.

Zayn Malik, known by his performance name: The Bradford Badboy was the lead name in music scene currently. And had been since he was a teenager. He had been plucked up into the world of music industry at the age of 15 - right about the same age Harry and Louis were at the time. They’d grown up watching Zayn Malik take over the industry. He was a fucking _king._ He owned his own record label. He had about a dozen platinum albums. He performed at the fucking Superbowl Halftime Show when he was just nineteen.

Harry and Louis had grown up together. And thus had also, in a way, grown up with Zayn Malik. They swapped posters back and forth and shared CDs. They had a slumber party to watch the three hour special on E! about Zayn’s rise to stardom and complete takeover of the music world. And recently, Zayn Malik had come out as gay. Another factor that made Harry and Louis swoon over him more. Because now as opposed to no chance in hell, they both had maybe a 000.1% chance. Which was still better than nothing.

“Are you kidding?” Harry’s jaw fell lax, “Lou, I swear to Christ you better not be joking!”

“No! I’m not! The winner gets to fly out to LA to spend a weekend with Zayn Malik. A _romantic_ weekend, mind you. And I figure if we both call it and try to be the seventh caller, one of us is bound to get it, right? Surely.”

It was solid logic, and Harry tilted his head in agreement. They waited with their phones in their hands, watching the clock on Harry’s nightstand intently. Finally, they both began madly dialling the number of the radio station. Harry waited with baited breath only to get a message saying -

“We’re sorry. We’re unable to process your call right now due to high call volume…”

Harry groaned when suddenly he heard Louis gasp -

“Yes? Yes! Am I the seventh caller?” He madly punched at the speaker button on his phone, putting the call on speaker so that Harry could listen in as well.

“Yes you are, sir! Congratulations! And what is your name?”

Louis looked to Harry with wide eyes and before Harry knew what was happening, Louis replied, “Harry Styles.”

\--

“I don’t know about this…” Harry frowned, hoisting his duffle higher on his shoulder. He held his ticket tightly in his grasp.

Louis rolled his eyes. After having given Harry’s name to the radio station, and Harry’s information, no one knew that Harry hadn’t technically been the winner. And when Harry had tried to protest countless times, Louis had only told him that he wanted Harry to have this. That Harry _deserved_ to have this. Louis had driven Harry down to the radio station to get everything squared away. And now, two weeks later, Louis had driven Harry to the airport. They were standing right at the security gates. Harry’s flight was in forty minutes. He needed to go now. But something was keeping him frozen in place.

“Stop being a prat about this,” Louis scolded, gently brushing some of the fringe from Harry’s eyes and placing his hands firmly on Harry's shoulders, “You deserve this, okay? I wanted to give you this. And so it’s yours. Go meet Zayn Malik. Charm his fucking socks off and maybe, who knows - pull yourself a celebrity hubby. Just be sure to remember me while you’re being whisked away to parties and launches and all those glamorous things, okay Haz?”

Harry swallowed, hard. He felt strange. Like he was leaving Louis behind. Which. Well. He was. But he still felt odd about it. Like Louis should be at least accompanying him. Harry glanced back towards the security line. He knew he needed to say his goodbyes quickly and be headed off. Why was it suddenly so hard to say goodbye?

“You need to go, Haz,” Louis said.

“I know. Okay. Well I guess this is it then, huh?”

“It’s just a weekend, H. You’ll be back before I even have a chance to miss your ugly mug.”

Harry scoffed and before he could reach out to smack Louis, Louis was wrapping him tightly in a hug. “Be good, okay?” He said against Harry’s ear, “And you better fucking take a bagillion pictures for me or else I’m going to kick your ass into the next century, Harold.”

“Okay, okay,” Harry giggled, pulling back from the hug, “Lots of pictures or else.”

“Right. Go, go!” Louis shooed Harry towards the security line. Harry took a deep breath and took his place in line. Once through security, he turned and gave Louis one final wave goodbye before turning away.

\--

“Is everything alright?”

“Y-yes!” Harry coughed, trying to cover his stammer. He knew he had been staring. But he just couldn’t help it. He was in a limo sitting directly across from Zayn Malik. Their fucking knees were brushing against each other. And Zayn was so, so much more gorgeous in person than Harry had pictured. Holy fuck! He had this beautiful olive-toned skin. And those tattoos! Harry had tattoos. He may have even had a few matching ones with Louis. But he didn’t have any on his hands. And holy shit, that must have been painful! Zayn just smiled knowingly and ran a hand over what hair he did have. His newest style lately was a very short buzzcut, dyed different colors once a month. This month’s shade was pastel lavender.

“You were staring, Harry Styles.”

“Sorry,” Harry winced, “It’s just...I can’t believe I’m actually meeting you. In person. And I’m riding in a limo with you on our way to dinner at the chef’s table of Chez Blanc, and I just...I’m freaking out a little. Like, this _cannot_ be real. _You_ cannot be real. But you are. Not saying you don’t exisit or anything it’s just that...can I pinch you? God, sorry! That was werid. And creepy.”

Zayn laughed good-naturedly, “It’s fine, Harry. Really. Though, I’d really rather you not go about pinching me. If that’s possible?”

“That’s possible,” Harry nodded, his cheeks stinging with embarrassment, “I’m sorry. Sometimes I just ramble and the words tend to just vomit out of me.”

Zayn paled visibly at the word vomit.

“God, I didn’t mean to say vomit around you. Not that you have any sort of effect on my digestion or...ugh! What am I even saying?”

“I think,” Zayn leaned forward and squeezed Harry’s knee slightly, “That you are saying you’re a little overwhelmed at meeting me?”

“Yes,” Harry sighed, nodding gratefully at Zayn’s understanding and gentleness.

“It’s alright, Harry. Really.”

“It’s just...I have a huge poster of you on my bedroom wall. I’ve had this celebrity crush on you since I was like, thirteen. And my best mate, Louis and I, well we sort of grew up having this crush on you. And it’s just odd seeing you not be hanging on my bedroom wall. And…”

“It’s fine,” Zayn gave Harry’s knee another reassuring squeeze, “To be honest, I had an Aaron Carter poster on my bedroom wall until I moved out to LA. Though, I am pretty sure that poster is still on my bedroom wall at my parents’ place. I met Aaron a few times. The first time I did, I actually admitted to wanking to his poster. _To his face._ ”

Harry’s eyes widened in horror and Zayn nodded in agreement, “I swore I wanted to die right then and there. But he just told me that he was quite honored, and asked that I try not to wank in his presence.”

“Louis and I used to sing to _I Want Candy_ every time it came on the radio,” Harry admitted, “We’d grab anything closest to us to use as microphones and do these ridiculous dance moves,” he laughed at the memory, “One time when it got to the ‘but I like candy when it’s wrapped in a sweater’ part? Well Louis was wearing this old baggy hoodie and the arms were like so stretched out. Anyway, he flung the arms around me and we got tangled up and ended up falling over on the living room floor and I still have a scar on my lip from where it busted hitting the coffee table.”

“Lemme see,” Zayn leaned forward slightly and Harry pointed to his lip where sure enough, there was a scar. Zayn giggled slightly, running his fingertip over the mark, “Nice battle wound, Harry. And good war story. I’m sure you really out-ball any guys that try to mess with you with that story.”

“Shut up!” Harry laughed, swatting Zayn’s hand away.

“Here,” Zayn dug his phone from his pocket of his red, velvet coat, “I have that song on my phone. No judgements, Harry. Or I shall kick you out of this limo so help me God.”

“No judgements!” Harry swore.

“Okay. We’re going to listen to _I Want Candy_ and jam out. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect! Just wait until I tell Louis that I actually jammed to _I Want Candy_ with Zayn Malik!”

\--

“So how is your suite at the hotel?” Zayn asked, sipping on his glass of white whine.

Harry was glancing around the kitchen with his eyes wide. He still couldn’t believe he was sitting at the chef’s table with Zayn Malik in one of the most popular restaurants in America. He felt dizzy. And part of him was tempted to pull out his phone and begin taking hundreds of pictures to share with Louis. Louis would love this. He’d scoff and talk about how it was too richy-shitzy for his tastes, but Harry knew Louis would love it in spite of that. He’d make a comment on how the everything being lit by candle light was romantic. And Harry would roll his eyes and tell Louis that he was a hopeless romantic. And Louis would nod, unashamed of it.

“Harry?” Zayn asked again.

“Hmm?”

“Your suite. Is it serving you well? I know you didn’t have much time after your plane landed. But do you think your suite will serve you well while you’re here this weekend?”

The suite! The suite was more than perfect. Harry had a California king bed. There was floor-to-ceiling expansive windows. There was a master remote that controlled the tv, the lights, the music, and even the shower pressure and temperature. The bathroom was all gold and marble. Harry had never stayed anywhere so stunning before. He’d wandered around taking pictures for about thirty minutes - trying desperately to capture everything. He had even taken a picture of the toilet paper.

“The suite is heavenly, Zayn! Really. It’s...it’s amazing. Even the toilet paper.”

Zayn laughed behind his wrist, “Well I should hope so.”

“Even took pictures of it to share with Louis. He did tell me to photograph everything or else. And I know if I don’t, he’d probably beat me to a pulp. So he’s getting pictures of everything. Including the toilet paper.”

“You two sound very close,” Zayn commented.

“We’ve been best friends since we were practically in diapers,” Harry explained, “His mum and mine were best friends in uni. And so we just grew up together. He’s always been a fixture in my life. I honestly can’t imagine a time without him being right there with me. That’s why this is a little odd. We have only been apart a handful of times for more than a day or two.”

“Well it is just a weekend.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Harry dipped some bread into the herb and olive oil mixture on the table, “If we aren’t attached at the hip, we’re either calling or texting. And I thought things would change when we got older. But we ended up taking the same courses at the local college and now we’re even working at the same coffeehouse. And I mean, I know that might seem weird to some. But I literally think he’s my person. He calls himself the Christina to my Meredith all the time.”

Zayn laughed loudly, taking a bite of bread himself, “So you’re dark and twisty then?”

“You watch Grey’s?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Sad people,” Harry said without missing a beat. It made Zayn laugh again.

Once their food was presented - or at least the first course - Zayn nudged Harry’s shin with his toe, “Go ahead. Take a picture of your plate. Wouldn’t want you to be beaten to a pulp for not, would we?”

\--

“Tomorrow I will have the limo pick you up about noon. You’re going to come over to mine and hang out. I have basketball courts and several swimming pools. And also I have a shitload of video games. It’ll be fun. Sound good?”

“Sounds...more than good,” Harry still felt overwhelmed. He was still very full, almost to the point of painfully. And he was a little fuzzy from the wine. Zayn reached across the limo and pressed his lips to Harry’s cheek.

“See you tomorrow then.”

Harry gulped and nodded before ducking out of the limo. He headed inside the hotel, flashes of light blinding his vision. The paps had been waiting outside the restaurant and now they were outside his hotel as well. Harry tried not to mind. This was what Zayn went through on a daily basis. But still it was a little frustrating to not be able to do something as simple as walking from point A to point B without blinding lights going off in your eyes.

Once back at his hotel suite, Harry changed from his dress clothes into his comfy sweats. After changing, and before getting his shower, he decided to call Louis. He had so much he wanted to tell him.

“You’re enjoying yourself, then?” Louis asked when Harry had finished gushing over the hotel suite, Zayn’s appearance in real life, the food, the wine, the paps, and the small goodnight kiss from Zayn.

“So, so much!”

“And he kissed you goodnight?”

“On the cheek, Lou. But still...Zayn Malik kissed me! I never thought I’d ever say those words. I never thought I’d ever go on a date with Zayn. But life has a funny way of working out, hmm?”

“You’re on that date because I _gave_ you that date,” Louis said, and Harry frowned, adjusting himself against the numerous pillows. Louis’ tone was clipped and there was something hidden behind his words that Harry didn’t quite like.

“A-are you mad at me?” Harry managed to ask. Surely not. He had done nothing wrong in any of this. Louis had insisted that Harry take the date. Louis had even driven him to the airport. Louis had been so excited for all of this too. So why then, did it suddenly sound like Louis was angry with Harry for it all? Was he jealous? Harry picked at a thread on his hoodie.

“I should go to bed.”

“What the fuck, Lou? Look, if something is wrong, tell me. We don’t keep things from each other. We never have. And I don’t want to start now. What’s going on? I can tell by your tone that something is wrong.” Harry had known Louis for almost all his life. He knew the pitches and tones of Louis’ voice and what certain phrases and things meant. If Louis thought Harry wasn’t picking up on any of this, he was sorely mistaken.

“It’s fine. We’re fine. You should get some rest. I am sure you have a big day tomorrow.”

“Look, if you wanted to go on the date yourself, you shouldn’t have given the radio my name. You were the one that insisted I go in place of you for some reason. And when I’d try to argue with you about it, you’d shut it down. So you have no real right to be jealous of me right now.”

“Jealous of you?” Louis cackled into the phone in a way that made Harry’s skin prickle, “Darling do you actually think I am jealous of you?”

“Well, it’d explain why you’re being such an absolute cock about things. Yes.”

“I’m going to hang up now. Have a good night, H.”

“Louis, we do not end conversations like this! We don’t! We talk things out!”

“Good night, Harry.”

The click on the other line made Harry’s pulse grow cold.

\--

“I just don’t know what his problem is,” Harry put his face in his hands. He was currently sitting on a red leather couch in Zayn’s game room - which consisted of air hockey, foosball, and and ping pong tables. Zayn sunk down next to Harry, resting his hand on the center of his back.

“Have you spoken to him at all since last night?”

“No. And it’s driving me crazy. He won’t text me back or return my phone calls. We never fight, Zayn. I mean, of course we have little spats. But they always get resolved quickly. We always see to that. The worst that ever happened was like when we were kids and we’d get frustrated with each other. But our moms would just put us in time out and afterwards, things would be fine again. He’s just being so strange about things. And I maybe sort of accused him of being jealous of me. For winning this.”

“Jealous of you? Harry, if anything it sounds to me like Louis is jealous of me,” Zayn raised a brow.

“Well that’s a bit vain, don’t you think?” Harry scowled.

“No, Harry. Like...he’s jealous that you’re on this weekend thing _with me_. From what you’ve told me, you two are very close. You can’t have a conversation without looping it back to Louis somehow. You even talked last night over coffee and dessert about how Louis hates coffee but prefers tea but only if it’s got a little bit of milk and no sugar. Because...what was it you said? That Louis says that sugar in tea is barbaric. And then you listed in detail the types of tea Louis prefers. Earl Grey, Yorkshire, English Breakfast...I am a good listener, Harry. And I’m intuitive. And it sounds to me like, well maybe. Louis wishes that this romantic weekend thing was between the two of you instead of me and you.”

“What?” Harry’s brow furrowed. No. That couldn’t be right. Could it? He and Louis were just friends. Best mates. Zayn clearly didn’t know what he was talking about. Besides, Harry had just met Zayn Malik yesterday. Zayn didn’t know him from Adam. And he certainly didn’t know his relationship with Louis.

“Forgive me if I am overstepping. But you talk about Louis like he’s your partner. Like you two are already in a committed relationship together. There is no one without the other. And if you two are just friends, great. But bro, I really think there’s something more going on there. And I think you think so too. Because truthfully, friends spat. And friends fight. But this...this seems like something else entirely.”

“Thank you kindly for your imput,” Harry frowned. He didn’t want to sound harsh. But really. Zayn didn’t know him. Zayn didn’t know anything about him. And Harry didn’t need the added stress of all this on top of everything else. He quite frankly was looking forward to Monday and being home. Being home with Louis. California was fun. Zayn was fun. But it wasn’t home.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Zayn squeezed Harry’s knee, “I know I probably overstepped. Tell you what. Why don’t you just go back to the hotel and rest for the day. I can tell you probably didn’t get much sleep last night. You can put any room service your order on the tab. There’s spa services too. Make a day of it for yourself just to sort of relax and take care of you. Tomorrow night at...let’s say seven. Seven is good. Tomorrow night at seven, my limo will pick you up from your hotel. I shall see you later, then.”

Harry nodded and thanked Zayn. Zayn’s driver drove him back to the hotel. Harry kept checking his phone to see if he’d heard something - anything from Louis. Nothing. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and promised himself he wouldn’t check it again that day.

\--

Harry spent the rest of the day as Zayn had instructed. He went to the spa and was treated to a deep tissue massage that felt like a mix of heaven and immense pain. Then he soaked in the salt water hot tub for a while before getting a hot stone foot massage. He couldn’t believe this was his life at the moment. But as relaxed as he was, his mind was on one person - Louis.

And what Zayn had said.

Could it be that what had been friendship for so long had blossomed into something more? Harry thought of the quote, “love is friendship set on fire.” It wasn’t impossible that he and Louis had fallen for each other over the years. Harry couldn’t even imagine being so close with another person. He and Louis had both come out in high school and had been each other’s strength and shield. But when it broiled down it, Harry never even could imagine dating anyone. Because that’d mean someone would have to come before Louis. And Louis would always, always be number one.

And no, he was not too keen on some sort of Meredith-Cristina-Derek threeway thank you very much. It was Louis and no one else. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Harry departed the spa and collapsed into bed for the rest of the evening. He tried to busy himself with movies from the movie channel. And while the background noise was welcome, he couldn’t focus on anything. Louis was his person. His number one. Whenever he had any sort of news, he wanted to share it with Louis. He could sit and listen to Louis talk about anything and everything. He knew every freckle, scar, tickle spot, birth mark. He had Louis memorised like a book. He knew Louis would bite his nails when he was nervous. He knew Louis would sometimes act like even more of a hyper little brat when things were bothering him just as a means of distracting himself - a coping mechanism. Harry knew Louis, for all his confidence, was sometimes overcome with self doubt. He knew Louis took his tea with milk and no sugar. He knew Louis loved Cocoa Pops  because they made the milk chocolatey. He knew Louis’ favorite movie and happily would watch Grease with Louis a thousand times over.

He knew Louis would blush and look away when he was embarrassed or really happy about something. He knew Louis loved to sit in his lap after a long day and just play with his curls while they watched reruns of Friends. He knew that when he got accepted into university far away, he didn’t take it because he couldn’t imagine being away from Louis. Everything circled back to Louis.

And that confused Harry immensely. By the time he finished his third movie on Pay Per View, Harry had finally come to the realization that he was in love with Louis William Tomlinson.

And Louis William Tomlinson was currently not speaking to him.

\--

At seven o’clock the following night, the limo picked Harry up in front of the hotel. The flashes of cameras and shouting from the paparazzi was blinding and deafening. Yesterday Harry had been sort of intrigued by them. Now, he hated them. There was no privacy, no quiet, no calm. It was all loud noise and evasive questions. People were shoving records in his face shouting -

“How is your romantic weekend with Zayn Malik, Harry Styles?”

“Harry Styles, is there going to be a budding romance here?”

“Harry Styles, what product did you put in your hair?”

Harry wanted to scream. But he didn’t. He kept walking, eyes straight ahead. He had stayed away from the papers and online articles. He knew there would just be dumb articles. There was nothing between him and Zayn. It was just a contest - meet Zayn Malik and go out to eat with him. It was all just fun. And Zayn was a perfect gentleman. Besides, Harry wasn’t completely blind. He had seen Zayn shooting little glances and smiles at his assistant, Liam. And in Zayn’s mind, Harry was pretty much taken.

“Are you ready for tonight?” Zayn asked, leaning forward and brushing his lips sweetly to Harry’s left cheek.

“What are we doing tonight? You’ve been a bit secretive.”

“Well, this is our last night together. I just figured I’d so something special for you. I’m really glad I got to know you, Harry. And I hope we can be friends. I would like that very much. This life...it doesn’t allow much for genuine friendships. People are hired to be my entourage. I am seen with the same five tossers everytime I go out. And while they’re fun lads, they’re total wanks. And you? You’re genuine, Harry Styles. And you deserve so much.”

Harry was a little taken back. He had no idea where Zayn was going with any of this. But to hear Zayn say he wished they could be friends, that meant a lot to him. “O-okay?” Harry nodded, trying to follow along.

“So tonight I am doing something special for you. I am a bit of a romantic, Harry Styles. I love a good love story. So tonight we’re driving out to one of my most favorite restaurants. It’s absolutely stunning. It’s located on the top floor of one of the downtown buildings. It’s one of those that um...that spin? So you can have a panoramic view of the city. Anyway, I may have requested that they close for tonight for privacy. It’ll be completely empty except for a few wait staff and of course the kitchen staff. I wanted to do something special for you, Harry. I hope you like this.”

“I-I love it. That sounds amazing. But...why?”

“Because,” Zayn just smiled secretively and Harry frowned down at his hands on his lap. Zayn clearly was going to say no more. The limo stopped in front of the restaurant and Zayn leaned forward again.

“This is where we part, Harry Styles.”

“You...you aren’t coming in with me?”

“No, love. You don’t want me there, trust me,” his eyes were glistening brightly, “Go on upstairs, love. The top level. You’ll find everything is prepared for you there. I will not see you again unless you come back out to LA. Or if I make a visit to see you. Which, I do have a private jet so that’s very much likely. You deserve to be happy, Harry. And he makes you happy. You won a date with me, but I don’t think I can be your date anymore, Harry. Your _real_ date is inside waiting on you. The perks of private jets and the like. Anyway, shoo. Go have fun. Talk to your boy. Figure things out.”

Harry’s head was spinning. “Wait...what?”

Zayn just smiled. And Harry took a deep breath as the door opened and he was ushed out of the limo. He turned back to say something more to Zayn, but Zayn just waved goodbye. And that was that. Harry felt his insides twist. It couldn’t be...could it? Did Zayn really fly Louis out to LA and arrange for them to have a private dinner at the most romantic and exclusive restaurants in LA? Harry felt dizzy. Surely not. Surely this wasn’t real…

He headed inside the building and took the glass elevator to the top floor. The doors opened up and he saw him standing there. Among the white table cloths and in front of a backdrop of night skyline, stood Louis. He was wearing a deep blue suit Harry had never seen before. His hair was perfectly quiffed. He was standing next to one of the tables - the only table for two that had red rose petals sprinkled across the white linen.

“Louis,” Harry said on a breath.

“Hey you,” Louis smiled, his eyes crinkled at the corners, “So...this is a little nuts, don’t you think? I mean, I nearly pissed myself when Zayn Malik called me and said he was sending his private jet to pick me up and you and I would be going on a date. Fuck, he even dressed me for this,” Louis gave his body a full-length wave of his hand, “And he told me that you and I...he said that this date should be ours. So he did this for us, Haz. And I am very much overwhelmed. But very much happy to see you.”

“Louis…” Harry was still breathless, “He...he did all of this? For us?”

“Apparently so? Now then, are you just going to stand there looking at me, or are we going to sit and enjoy our meal together, love?”

Harry quickly crossed over to the table. A waiter pulled the chair out for him to sit. They sat in silence for a moment, just staring at each other. A candle flickered on the table. Their eyes scanned each other’s as if trying to read one another. As if trying to process this as real. Finally, it was Harry who broke the silence -

“I was worried you were mad at me.”

“I was mad,” Louis nodded, “but not really at you. Your name was everywhere, Hazza. And every time I got on the computer, I was reminded that you were on this romantic date with Zayn Malik. And I just felt a little sick with jealousy. I know I told you to go. I did this for you. But at the same time, hearing the reports. A pap caught him kissing your cheek and it made my blood boil. And I realized that I never wanted another man to kiss you. Or touch you. I-I want to be the one to do those things. And I was a prick about it, I know. And I am sorry. But I do...I do love you, Harry. And I think in the course of the years, I have fallen _in love_ with you.”

Harry swallowed thickly, trying to process Louis’ words, “I-I think that somewhere in the course of the years, I have fallen in love with you too,” Harry admitted, “I can’t picture anyone else but you in my life. And seeing you here before me like this...you’re giving me goosebumps, Lou.”

“You’ve given me goosebumps for the last couple of years, Hazza. I just didn’t know what to do about that.”

“And what do you plan to do about that now?” Harry asked slyly.

“Make you mine,” Louis replied easily, “if you’ll have me.”

\--

“Look at this, baby,” Zayn waved Liam over to where he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes focused on a piece of paper in his hand, “Come see what I got in the mail today!”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to order another life-size Marvel figure,” Liam sighed, walking over to Zayn.

“Liam, I’ve told you. I’m going to keep having them made until I have the complete Avengers set. Don’t be silly. Anyway, this isn’t about that. Look,” Zayn shoved the paper to Liam, “They’re getting _married_ next spring.”

“Oh!” Liam’s eyes lit up as he scanned the invitation, “Wow. That’s...that’s awesome!”

“I know! God, I love playing matchmaker! It’s so much fun when things work out. I _knew_ they would, Li! I knew it! Those two...the way they talked about each other! And you should see how they are with each other! They buzz around each other and just glow! Well, I suppose you will see since you’ll be my date to the wedding, of course.”

“Is that so,” Liam set the paper down on the countertop and wrapped his arms around Zayn’s waist from behind.

“Of course, love,” Zayn smiled as Liam pressed his lips to the back of his neck, “I am going to ride them about being the best man, and it’s a huge faux pas for the best man to arrive without a date on his arm.”

“Hmm,” Liam smiled.

“Told you I was good at matchmaking,” Zayn ran his hand over the wedding invitation.

Liam chuckled, and said lovingly, “My little Yenta.”


End file.
